


This is my kingdom come

by Fionakevin073



Series: Long Live All the Magic We Made [4]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fear of Death, Friendship, Gen, Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fionakevin073/pseuds/Fionakevin073
Summary: Where Anne has to face a frightening reality. Part 4 of Long Live All the Magic We Made.





	This is my kingdom come

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Hello my lovely readers! These requests are coming in pretty fast huh? Lol I’m really enjoying writing them so far. For this one-shot, I am combining the requests of Queen Anne Tudor and Let there b ligh. This one shot is dedicated to examining the growing relationship between Anne and Mary. In all honesty, I had trouble believing that Anne would actively wish for Mary to be restored to the succession, partly because of religious beliefs and partly because I thought she fear that her children would be murdered so that Mary could be put on the throne. But nonetheless, I managed to come up with an idea that may satisfy both requests. I also have to finish writing the remaining requests from the Guest, who I have four more one-shots to write for. Please feel free to ask for more prompts. :) 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support. 
> 
> Until next time, 
> 
> Fionakevin073

 

 

_This is my Kingdom come—Imagine Dragons, Demons_

* * *

 

Anne had always feared that her children would die young. As a mother, it was only natural, especially considering how often children died. Ever since William had grown ill in 1537, her children, including Elizabeth, had been healthy. Of course there had been the odd cough or cold here and there over the years but nothing that had Anne seriously concerned as to whether or not their lives were at stake. 

 

That was until the year of 1550. 

 

Henry had been dead for three years when the sweating sickness broke out once more. Anne had continued to reside at court despite the death of her husband, as co-regent until George came of age. There had been rumours of the sickness growing but Anne had not been overtly concerned. All of her children, including Elizabeth, who was visiting her brothers at Hatfield before she left for France in a few months time, were safe in the countryside. 

 

When eventually it became clear that the sweating sickness had indeed broken out once more, the court was disbanded and though Anne wished to go and be with her children, the doctors convinced her that she might be infected herself without even realising it and then bring the sickness upon her own children. Even though Anne had already suffered and overcome the sickness years prior and was well acquainted with its symptoms. 

 

And so with great reluctance, Anne retired to her Pembroke estate, comforted with the knowledge that all her children were relatively safe and secluded. Anne did not enjoy visiting Pembroke on her own. Whenever she had visited the castle—which had been her home during some of the hardest moments of her life, and been her home during some of the happier moments— it had always been with Henry or her children by her side. 

 

Anne did not like visiting there that much in part because it reminded her of Charles. Without her children there to distract her or Henry for that matter, she was constantly bombarded with memories of him. Though she admittedly still loved and cared for him, she was not willing to balance the guilt of mourning Charles and Henry, when the latter’s death was a far greater and more recent wound. 

 

But she resided there with her ladies for a good while, when she received an urgent letter. 

 

_Dear Dowager Queen Anne,_ the Lady Mary wrote, 

 

_I write to you in hope that you and your household remain in good health in these troubling times. My husband and child have luckily managed to escape the clutches of the illness by remaining near the seaside, since they have recently returned from my lord husbands short travel to France. Unfortunately your majesty, it has come to my attention that some members of my household have grown ill with the sweat and I implore you to allow me and very few members of my household to reside with you until the illness passes, as your estate is a mere half a day ride from my own._

 

_With all my love and good will,_

_Lady Mary, Duchess of Bavaria_

 

“Of course she can,” Anne said aloud. Her and Mary’s relationship had grown into one of mutual admiration and respect, though Anne could not confess that they were the closest of friends, they were certainly not enemies either and ever since Henry’s death they corresponded regularly. Anne had played a massive role in convincing Henry to allow Mary to marry Philip of Bavaria and had offered her husband’s daughter advice when she became with child, eventually giving birth to her son Henry. 

 

All Anne had to do was wait. 

 

* * *

 

 

Many people would call what happened next a bad omen. 

 

On the day that Lady Mary arrived at Pembroke, Anne received word that not one, but _all_ of her children had caught the sweat. 

 

The despair that Anne felt at the news was indescribable. Anne had two urges: one was to sob her eyes out of their sockets and the other was to curl up into a ball and disappear from the world. Anne’s ladies as well as the lady Mary had to physically restrain her from riding to Hatfield, claiming that it would not do either her or her children any good. 

 

“My children are dying,” she whispered, her voice heavy with sorrow as she stared into the raging fire, the flames casting a sharp light on her grief stricken features. 

 

“Your children are strong,” Mary told her from where she sat beside her, “You overcame the illness, as shall they.” 

 

“They are so young,” Anne continued, as though she had not heard Mary, “They are my heart. I will not survive if they go.” 

 

“Stop this,” Mary told her firmly, causing Anne to look at her with surprise, “You are co-regent and the mother of the heirs to the throne. Your children are strong and healthy. My siblings will not die. God will not allow it and neither shall we.” 

 

“Yes,” Anne murmured, feeling slightly better, “Indeed.” 

 

But Anne’s mind had turned dark. Soon enough, she received letters from all the members of the privy council and her co-regent, the Duke of Norfolk, asking her who would be heir to the throne if all her children died. Anne could not bare to think of such things but she knew that since George was far too young to think of who would rule after him in case all of he and his siblings were dead, it was up to her. 

 

The answer came far easier than one might have thought. 

 

“Mary,” Anne said aloud into her empty chamber, moonlight fluttering through the windows, “Mary.” 

 

— 

 

Thankfully, all of her children recovered before Anne had replied to the privy council’s letters and though the thought lingered in her mind, Anne did not speak of it or say it aloud to anyone, not even Mary herself. 

 

At least, not until George was old enough. 

 

* * *

 

 

(Anne is the one who suggests the idea to George once he rules England and she is there when Mary is informed of the new act of Succession, with Mary 6th in line to the throne, after the children he and his siblings had. 

 

Anne watches as various expressions flicker across her pale face; surprise, gratitude, happiness and a deep sadness all at once. 

 

“Thank you,” Mary tells them finally, “Thank you.”  

 

When Mary gives birth to her final child, a girl, in 1554, she calls her Anne. ) 

 

* * *

 

 

End. 


End file.
